A Bitter Taste
by GrapefruitSpritzer
Summary: He brought her to Magenta. He appointed her as his assistant. He argued with Savior that she could still be of value, even if she didn't infiltrate the RFA. Now she was going to die, and it was all his fault. CW: Violence and Character Death. Please do not read if you are sensitive to these topics. Thanks!


Hungry.

It was a feeling Saeran was used to, though less often as of late. Despite her lack of talent and dangerous levels of naivete, he had to admit that the girl was useful in that regard; bringing him meals and elixir, reminding him to sleep, running errands and the like. Even Savior had grudgingly acknowledged his sharp increase in productivity since he acquired an assistant to take care of the mundane and leave him to the extraordinary.

Saeran's frown deepened into a scowl as he glanced at the time in the corner of the screen. 11:48 pm. No wonder his stomach ached – he hadn't eaten since breakfast.

Where the fuck was she?

He spun out of his chair in annoyance, snatching his jacket from the edge of the desk and shrugging it over his bare shoulders. Calling her would be faster than hunting her down, but where was the fun in that? If she was going to neglect her only duty _– him –_ then he had no choice but to give her a little reminder of what happens to naughty girls around here.

The light of the hallway was blinding, as it always seemed to be after a long stint in the information room, and Saeran narrowed his eyes against it as he walked towards the stairs leading to her bedroom. As he neared the corner by the stairwell, the sound of hushed whispers caught his ear. Wondering who would be stupid enough to gossip in the halls like this was a fucking high school, he held back an irritated sigh and slowed his pace to listen. If the situation was worth bringing to Savior, she'd want details.

"I'm telling you, H212 saw him do it this morning! I told her to report it but who's going to take her word against a Disciple, you know?" A female voice, young by the sound of it. A new initiate perhaps?

A man snorted under his breath. "No one would. I don't."

"But..."

"Look, R011 has been here since the beginning. If he really did slip something in her food, it was on Savior's orders. Mind your business and stay out of it or you'll get the same as H212 when they find out she's been running her mouth."

_At least the guy has some sense,_ Saeran thought as he resumed his pace and rounded the corner. He didn't need to hear anything else. H212 was due for a cleansing it seemed, but these two were inconsequential.

Saeran didn't miss the way the pair shrank back against the wall as he approached them, staring like he was a rabid animal that would pounce if they found themselves in his way. They knew of him, then. Good.

A wry grin spread to his lips and he winked at the girl as he passed, chuckling with dark amusement at the way her eyes widened in response. Was it fear or desire he saw flash through them?

Doesn't matter. They both meant the same thing – submission. Just the way he liked it.

Taking the steps two at a time, he couldn't help but imagine that look reflected on his assistant's face instead. Long lashes dusting flushed cheeks as she cast her eyes downward in deference to him. Worrying her lip between her teeth as she waited for him to decide what to do with her, tendrils of dark hair curling enticingly around the milky skin of her neck and collarbones. Pure and innocent, and ready for him to devour whole.

Saeran's tongue unconsciously ran over the tips of his canines as he threw open the door to her room, more than ready to play with his little princess. Instead he stopped short, tilting his head in confusion at the sight before him.

He'd expected to find her lounging around on her phone, legs thrown over the arm of her chair the way she liked. Maybe even asleep, though she typically stayed up far later than this. What he was not prepared for was the sight of her curled up on the floor, visibly shaking as she retched into a sick pan. A Believer looked on impassively, writing something down in a notepad but otherwise making no move to help her.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Saeran demanded, the question pointed at the Believer though his eyes never left her trembling form. Her head popped up at the sound of his voice, eyes wide and glassy just the way he'd envisioned – but to his disappointment he found he couldn't get any satisfaction out of the image under these circumstances. Was he...worried about her?

_No. Don't be an idiot._

"Oh! S-Sae...I mean, K006, sir," the man sputtered, clearly flustered by the unexpected presence looming before him. "I uh, she's...uh...sick."

"I can see that," he replied icily, turning his glare on the man. A doctor, by the designation on his robe. _Some doctor._ "I meant what the hell is wrong with her?"

The man quickly flipped through his notes, clearing his throat loudly through his nerves. "It's difficult to pinpoint the cause without lab work, but considering that her symptoms came on quickly and at this severity, I would guess a food-borne illness. Probably Staphylococcus or Salmonella."

Saeran's gaze roamed over his assistant, taking in her labored breathing, her chalky pallor, the way her eyes kept going distant even as she tried to focus on him. Her long hair dangled limply around her face, bangs stuck to the sweat beading on her forehead, and he had the strangest itch in his fingers to smooth them back.

"Sae...ran..." she choked out, her voice a weak, broken imitation of the melody he had grown used to over the last few weeks. He stiffened at the use of his name rather than "boss" or "sir", but decided to overlook it just this once. She looked so pathetically helpless in that moment, even more so than during her initiation ceremony, and he suddenly found himself grappling with a feeling he had long since abandoned: fear.

She honestly looked like she was about to die, and for some reason he was afraid she actually might.

Unwilling to examine why he was feeling this way about some stupid, useless airhead who couldn't even put in a door combination correctly, Saeran resisted the urge to reply to her, to offer reassurance or comfort. Instead he tore his gaze away from her entirely, leveling it on the doctor.

"Well fucking treat her then!" he snapped, hating the twinge of hysteria in his tone. The doctor flinched but nodded, jumping into action at his command. As the man began to string up an IV, Saeran turned to leave. He needed to get out of here, away from the smell of sick and blood, away from her pained whimpers, away from his unwelcome emotions and…

Wait,_ blood?_

Turning back abruptly, Saeran crossed the room in three quick strides, leaning down to peer at the bowl she had been vomiting into. His own stomach lurched as he confirmed what his nose had told him – the watery liquid within was laced with a striking amount of brilliant crimson.

Staph or Salmonella shouldn't cause bleeding, Saeran noted with a frown. He was no doctor, but he'd been forced to eat enough spoiled food in his childhood to know that much at least. There had to be something more going on than just simple food poisoning.

_Food...poisoning..._

A dark look settled across Saeran's face as the conversation he had heard only minutes before came back to him. The Believers downstairs said that R011 tampered with someone's food this morning. She had been missing since shortly after breakfast. The pieces fit far too neatly to be anything else.

Truth be told, Saeran didn't really care if it was a coincidence or not. Every ounce of concern he had for this girl had twisted into a dark rage, blinding him to any kind of reasoning or hesitation. She was _his,_ and nothing mattered anymore except the violence he was going to inflict on the sorry fool who dared to hurt that which belonged to him.

Saeran didn't remember leaving her room or walking across the compound, too consumed by his thirst for vengeance to note the details that led to him pinning R011 against the stone wall of the kitchen.

"It was you, wasn't it?" he snarled, slamming the shorter man's head into the wall. "You fucked with her food, didn't you?"

"What's it to you?" the man replied, cocky despite his compromised position. "Does little Ray have the hots for her or something?"

Saeran grabbed a fistful of the man's hair and smashed his face into the stone again. "Ray's dead," he growled dangerously, "and if you don't tell me what poison you used, you're going to follow him."

R011 laughed, a trail of blood dribbling from his split lip. "It doesn't matter. You're too late. She'll be dead by morning, if she isn't already."

For a single moment, Saeran felt like it was his own heart that had stopped. He'd known somewhere deep down that the chances of her surviving this were low, but hearing it out loud made it real in a way that he had been denying up to this point.

She was going to die, and it was his fault.

The last flicker of hope in him extinguished, Saeran did the only thing he could – he gave in to the tender arms of madness waiting to embrace him. A wide, manic grin spread across his face as he leaned in close enough to smell the bitter remnants of elixir on the man's breath.

"You made her choke on her own blood. I'm going to return the favor."

With that he drew back and slammed his fist into the Disciple's nose, feeling a sick satisfaction at the crunch that followed. Once, twice, letting the pain in his knuckles distract from the pain in his chest. With every punch he let his own agony flow into this piece of shit who didn't deserve to die so easily, who deserved the prolonged torture that _his girl_ was suffering.

That she was still suffering. Alone.

Breathing heavily with adrenaline and exertion, Saeran shoved the broken man to the floor, grabbing a knife from the counter top and straddling his chest. He needed to end this now, to get back to her room and...and...

R011 cracked open one swollen eye to meet Saeran's crazed glare. The corner of his mouth lifted mockingly as he drew a wheezing breath.

"For eternal...paradise..."

It was the last words he'd ever speak.

Not sparing him a second glance, Saeran tossed the knife away and sprinted as fast as he could out of the kitchens, down the hall, and back up the stairs. He wasn't sure what he'd do or say when he got to her room, but he knew he had to go regardless. He needed to see her.

He needed her.

Saeran threw her door open, crashing into the bedpost in his haste to get to her, to hold her against his chest and feel her heart beating, if only for a moment. The competing voices in his head were blissfully quiet as he dropped to the floor and pulled her into his arms, brushing her hair back from a face that was too pale, too cold. Too still.

Somewhere in the background he heard the doctor speaking to him, but he couldn't make out any of the words over the buzzing in his ears. Everything was drowned out by the deafening weight of her silence. No tiny whimpers or soft breaths passed through her lips, no laughter like wind chimes or thoughtful humming escaped her throat. He would never hear his name on her silvery voice again.

Saeran clung to her desperately, hands trembling as frantic, angry tears began to roll down his cheeks. His head felt like it was going to explode, the pain nearly as bad as the one ripping apart his chest. The shattered remains of his world were crashing down around him, and there was nothing he could do but scream.

_If he really did slip something into her food, it was on Savior's orders._

_For eternal paradise._

_Goodbye._


End file.
